Friday, January 21, 2011

Law and Spiritual Life

Sermon at Gig Harbor Adventist Fellowship, Sabbath, January 22, 2011.

Text: Psalm 1

Beautiful Bones


The most beautiful shape in the world is the female body. When we think of feminine beauty, we think of graceful curves and soft, warm touch. We do not think about the skeleton that lies beneath the skin. However, the reality is that human beauty is utterly dependent on a a sturdy, functioning skeleton.

When I was a Bible worker in New York, I gave Bible studies to a girl named Linda. She, her mom and her sister Gloria lived in a dingy apartment in Brooklyn. Linda was tall and thin and pretty. But Gloria had the magic personality. She was funny, cheerful, bright. She was fun to talk to. But in contrast to Linda, Gloria was not fun to look at. In fact, it hurt to look at her. She was just over four feet tall. She got around the apartment on crutches. She used a wheel chair for excursions away from the apartment. Her shoulders were terribly slumped. Her hands were twisted and gnarled. Gloria didn’t come from a family of short people. Her sister Linda was five feet six or seven. Gloria was so short because her skeleton was inadequate.

They told me it was called brittle bone disease. Medical people tell it's called Osteogenesis imperfecta. In this syndrome, the bones don’t form properly. They’re not strong enough to do their job. They are always breaking from just the normal activi. When Gloria was born she looked like a normal baby. But as she grew her deformity became more and more obvious. By the time I met her, when she was in her twenties, her body was peculiarly misshapen. Her life expectancy was short.

Gloria's defect highlights the obvious truth: human beauty, even the soft, gentle grace of the female form is absolutely dependent on strong, rigid bones, a sturdy skeleton.

In spiritual life law plays the role of bones and the skeleton. Without an appreciation for the order and structure of law we will be ineffective in our life with God.

What do I mean by “law?'

I mean the moral order, the notion that there are some things that are right to do and some things that ought not be done. Regardless of how I feel.

I mean practicing doing right. Lawful living includes the discipline of doing right, the habits of prayer, meditation, Bible reading, going to church, giving money, speaking courteously, telling the truth.

Healthy spiritual life does not exist apart from a belief in the moral order and a commitment to the practice of spiritual habits.



In his sermon on the mount Jesus outlined the wisdom of the kingdom of heaven. He warned us against anger, lust and greed. He challenged us to imitate our heavenly Father in mercy. He urged us not to worry and to practice the golden rule.

Then Jesus comes to the punch line, the grand climax of the sermon. It is the story of the two builders. One builds on sand, the other on rock. When a flood comes, one house stands, the other collapses.

The key to avoiding disaster, Jesus says, is putting into practice what he says. It's not enough to know what he says, to be aware of it. If we are going to avoid disaster, we have to put it into practice.


That's the way life works. Law is not some arbitrary overlay on life. It is a description of how life works.

If I want to do a hundred pushups, I will have to get up from the keyboard and start doing pushups. Merely reading the app on my Iphone will not bring me any closer to my goal.

The law of increasing my strength is that I have to do something. I have to exercise.

If I want to make music that will charm people and move them, I'm going to have to practice. No matter how much talent I have, unless I practice, I will never make the kind of music I can hear in my head.

If I hope some day to be a National Merit Scholar. I will have to engage in school work before my senior year in high school.

If I want to enjoy an effective spiritual life, I am going to have to put into practice the “laws,” the instruction, that Jesus gave.

No amount of “faith” will substitute for actually doing the practice.




Law and Love

What about love? Can't we just love and forget about law? Isn't Christianity all about relationships. What do we need law for?

Law, in the sense of a morality that is greater than any human authority is a powerful protector of love. It helps to distinguish true love from dangerous and false counterfeits.

The world is heavy with abuse–battered wives, children who are assaulted, harangued, sexually used by their parents or other adults, employees misused by employers, parishioners subjugated by clergy and citizens by tyrants. This abuse happens because of failures to appreciate law. Notice these kinds of evils happen inside relationships. They may be sick relationships, but they are relationships nevertheless. Law—morality, duty, conscience—stands above the relationship and judges it.

Persons with power often attempt to impose on subordinates by claiming the prerogatives of relationship: Lie down, girl; I’m your father. Don’t question me, church member; I am your shepherd. Don’t challenge me, citizen; I am your leader. Tragically victims often comply because they feel obligated by the relationship. Children are especially vulnerable because they are so relationally oriented they don’t have the mental capacity to clearly differentiate between what an authority figure requires and what is truly right.
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The truth is, no matter who you are, if what you want is wrong, it’s wrong. It doesn’t matter if you are Mom or Dad or Pastor or Teacher or President. It’s wrong because the law is greater than any person. Law is capable of giving authoritative judgment about any relationship. “Love” does not make everything all right. “I’m doing this because I love you” does not justify capricious or cruel discipline. Assurances of affection and admiration do not justify sexual violations. Relational connections are not everything. Healthy relationships do not violate boundaries set by law. (Please note, I am not referring to law in the sense of something legislated by human governments. I am referring to law as the deep principles that permeate the universe.)

Love cannot flourish where moral law is violated. We cannot build better families or better civic or ecclesiastical communities by diminishing people’s regard for law.

Law cannot create love. Law cannot create meaningful, intimate relationships. But law builds the fence that protects the garden of love from the assaults of competing lovers, restless hormones, boredom, and the exhaustion that comes from the relentless pace of modern life. Law provides the skeleton of duty and faithfulness that supports the warm beauty of love.


Law and God

Beyond its utility as a guardian of children, vulnerable teenage beauties, long-term marriages and effective government and business operation, the Adventist concept of law can be a tremendous aid for people who struggle with doubt about God.

Some people have an instinctive, deep confidence in God. “God said it. I believe it. That settles it.” Their faith is simple and untroubled. But for many, the question, can God be trusted? is intensely problematic. Is God good? Is God fair? What right does God have to give orders? What right does he have to act as judge of all the earth?

One of the major projects of Adventist theology has been to address this question. Historically, it was a major theme in the writings of Ellen White. More recently this has served as a dominant theme in the theology of Graham Maxwell.

Adventists believe that law in its most fundamental form is not an arbitrary imposition of rules by God upon humans, rather law is a description of the habits of God, or in the language of Ellen White, “law is a transcription of the character of God.”

God is not right merely because he says so. God is right because there is an absolute congruence between what he requires and what he is/does. The very structure of the universe is a reflection of God. Our inescapable human sense of right and wrong is a reflection of God. God himself operates within boundaries, within limits. God must do right. Not simply in the sense that if God does it, it is right, but in the sense of that God himself is bound by the norms which he expressed in creation and which govern our best thoughts and sensibilities.

This conviction connects with multiple points of our doctrinal statements–creation, salvation and hell, judgment, the nature of humanity, the Bible. It distinguishes us from the theology of the reformation. Martin Luther embraced a philosophical view called Nominalism. The effect of this theology was to reduce human questions about divine justice to irrelevance. If God called something right, it was right just because God said so. There was no objective, universal criteria by which the Creator could be evaluated. Adventists, on the other hand, have insisted that human questions matter. Every human question about justice and fairness will be dealt with before history is finished and we enter the eternity of bliss. Law may be a divine creation, but having created it, God himself is defined in part by law and will not violate it.


Escaping the Tyranny of Law

As I entered my teen years, I began to try my hand occasionally at cooking. I began with really complicated things like oatmeal. I’d carefully read the directions on the oatmeal box, then carefully measure the ingredients into the kettle, adding them in just the order listed.

Other mornings, I watched Mother make oatmeal. She didn’t measure anything. She held the kettle under the faucet for a moment or two, added salt by pouring it into her hand before dumping it in. Then once the water boiled, she picked up the round Quaker Oatmeal box and poured. She stirred the oats a couple of times, sometimes added a bit more, put the lid on and a little later served breakfast.

She had much the same approach to biscuits. Dump in some flour. Dump in some sugar. Pour a bit of salt into her hand and dump that in. She did use a spoon for the baking powder, but did not use a measuring cup for the milk or oil.

Now, when I made biscuits, I got out the cook book and read the directions a dozen times. I used a knife to level off each cup of flour as I measured it. I used measuring spoons for salt and sugar and baking powder. I used a glass measuring cup for the milk and oil. Then I carefully counted the number of times I turned the dough. (Betty Crocker says to knead it fifteen times.)

As a teenager in Memphis and later a bachelor in my own apartment in Times Square, I dreamed of escaping the tyranny of the cookbook. I wished I could dump and stir like Mother. So I tried. And I threw away pots of oatmeal too salty to eat and trays of biscuits that even the dog couldn’t chew. So it was back to the recipes.

But over time, amazingly, it has happened. I can now cook oatmeal without reading the directions on the side of the box, and my kids will eat it. (Most of the time.) I can make pretty good biscuits without pulling down the cookbook. I even serve them to company.

I’ve been delivered from the tyranny of recipes.

Which is a silly thing to say. If you cook at all, you know what’s really happened: the law of teaspoons and cups has moved from the side of the oatmeal box into my head and hands. Whether I use a teaspoon or my hand to measure the salt, whether I use a measuring cup or estimate as I pour the oats from the box, edible oatmeal results from getting the proportions right.

It is certainly more convenient to have the proportions in my mind than to be a slave of the words and numbers on the side of the box. I prefer dumping and stirring to measuring. And having internalized the proportions, I’m free to innovate. I can add raisins to the oatmeal or apple slices and dates. I can make sweet biscuits for strawberry shortcake. But the only way to make good oatmeal or delicious biscuits is to approximate the proportions printed on the box or in the book.

So with life. The only way to build a good life is to approximate the laws written in the Book. Sure, slavish attention to the details of law is not the mark of a mature Christian. And the law works better as internalized principles, than as a collection of specific rules. But those who think they can make a better life by escaping the tyranny of the law will probably end up with oatmeal salty as Fritos and biscuits hard as rocks.

You will show me the path that leads to life;
your presence fills me with joy
and brings me pleasure forever. Psalm 16:11 TEV

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Great thoughts. I was blessed reading it this morning! I do, however, find myself between the two philosophies of what makes God's commands "good."

Like you I believe that God honors our questions and is not bothered when people struggle with the question, "can he be trusted?" He does not bash us over the head like Luther or Calvin would and say, "just believe moron!" He "remembers that we are dust."

Though I would not agree with them on a practical level - "shut up and listen to God" approach - I do agree with Luther and Calvin on a philosophical level that what God commands is good because He commands it. If there is some outside standard by which His goodness is judged to be good then that standard would be co-eternal with Him - similar to the idea of matter being co-eternal with the creator.

If God had been something different than what He is there would have been nothing outside of Him to deem Him "not good."

For me it is what makes Who he is such good news - He didnt "have to be" what He is. But He is, and at the center of reality - that in my experience is often very dark and broken - is a being that is pure selflessness and giving.

Jeff Carlson

John McLarty said...

Jeff, I hate to agree with you. But your criticism that a "law" apart from God is analogous to matter apart from the creator is apt.

My "middle" position is that law is an expression of God and given that God is internally consistent it is not a misuse of language to say he "cannot" violate the law. Meaning not that there is an eternal standard apart from God we can appeal to but that there is an eternal consistency to which we can appeal. (Or something like that.)

Anonymous said...

I did a study of Psalm 119, the longest psalm and coincidentally, the center of the Protestant Bible. Every verse but one exalted the Word, Law or Rule of Law. So the center of the Bible is an exclamation that the Law of God is good, righteous and just.
I believe that a person can live by 'faith alone' if that person understands the law and absolutely believes the God has ordained the law for the good of all of his children. But one must have that understanding prior to living by faith, which we all do eventually. I like both your postings, good job.

Antinyx said...

John I like your approach to law however I am still troubled. You indicate that law stands outside of relationships and judges relationships, e.g. law defines abuse. To me, at least sometimes it seems like it is the other way around, that relationships judge the law. Yesterday NPR had a segment on the effects of the "Don't ask, don't tell" law. I felt sorrow and anger as I listened to the spouse of a soldier breakdown and cry on air as he told of how hard it was not to be able to say "I love you" during their phone calls for fear of being found out. There is something in me that passionately shouts, "ANY LAW THAT PREVENTS ONE HUMAN FROM SAYING TO ANOTHER, I LOVE YOU, MUST BE WRONG".

I feel torn in my relationship to god. I love the beauty that pervades my life, but I hate a god who would not only tell one man that he can't love another, but would create law that defines such love as worthy of the death penalty.

Or, another example, the law that tells a woman that no matter how excellent and blessed her administrative skills are, she can never be allowed to use them in the church.

And to Anonymous, you assert that "God is not bothered when people struggle with the question, "can he be trusted". Well, isn't that exactly the issue that played out in the Garden of Eden? Adam and Eve were innocent, meaning they were naive with no independent experience from which to judge the conflicting claims of God and Satan. When Eve decided to experiment, to find out who was telling the truth, what was god's response? His immediate response was to come looking for them which I think is laudable on god's part, but ultimately he drove them away from the tree of life and away from himself, sentencing them to death.

I see some of the tolerance you describe in Jesus, but to the extent Jesus and God the father can be distinguished, I don't see ANY tolerance in God the father. In fact God hates sin and sinners so much that he can only tolerate them because Jesus sacrificed himself on their behalf. I don't think I want to go to heaven if it means living with that kind of a god for eternity. For me, it seems that love and relationship define law.